Seven Days
by Battered notebook of stories
Summary: New York, 1937. The story of the week after Indy left Marion. On Day 6, Marion wants to send back her ring. So Colin Williams and his friend Nigel are delivering a package to a certain professor's office at Barnett College...
1. Chapter 1

Seven Days

New York, 1937

The first day came after an incredible night. Indy was always a wonderful lover, but that night he was as ardent as he'd been at 25, wanting her again and again. Before they settled to sleep, he cupped her chin in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. "So beautiful…" he'd whispered. "Something's not right between us, Bright Eyes, and I know it. But you're the love of my life, and I'll love you forever. Never doubt that." In the moonlight, his eyes had shone with unshed tears. _Oh, Indy_… Marion had wrapped her arms around his neck and cuddled in against him the way she used to when she was 17. He'd murmured endearments and kissed her hair until she fell asleep.

Marion kissed her sleeping man when she left in the morning, touched that their approaching wedding had turned him so tender and sentimental. _Right_. Now she knew better. She'd come home early with her wedding dress over her shoulder, but no one was there when she opened the door. No one else, she realized, would be there ever again. For Indy was gone. So were his clothes and suitcase. He'd left her his coffee cup in the sink. And a note.

Marion sat the bed, not hers, no longer _theirs, a_nd refolded the letter she'd found on her pillow. _So. This is how it ends with the love of my life. I wonder if there's someone else_… Her instinct told her there wasn't, yet. Adventure and archaeology had been enough to take her Indy away from her this time. _Well,_ _if the Cross of Coronado is what you really want, may the two of you have many long and happy years_ _together,_ _Jones, you bastard_….

_Maybe_, she thought forlornly, _Indy hadn't meant to say 'you __are__ the love of my life_.' _Maybe he'd really meant '__you were'_. Perhaps last night, in his own way, Indy had been saying goodbye. _Was it already over when you took me in your arms, Indy_? _Were_ _you packed up and ready to leave when you told me you'd love me forever?_ _Or_, she sighed ruefully, _am I going to be cleaning up after one of your impulses-again?_

Marion thought about pouring herself a good stiff drink, but a wrenching wave of nausea stopped _that_ particular thought in its tracks. So she patted her stomach, and smiled at it fondly. _Maybe it's a good thing I hadn't told him about you, yet_. She started to wad the letter up in a ball and throw it away, then reconsidered, smoothed it out, and put it in a drawer. I_f you ever need to ask me why your father and I aren't together, little one, I can just_ _show you this. But until then, at least I can tell you truthfully that Daddy's last word to me was 'Darling'. That's got to be worth something. _The air suddenly seemed very cold_._ Marion wrapped her arms over her belly to shelter Indy's baby, and rocked slowly, comforting them both.

Then she got up, put on a sweater and sat down at the secretary desk in one corner of the bedroom. She was a mother, now, and there was work to be done. Marion blinked back her tears, sniffled once, and started writing a list. When she finished, she combed her hair, touched up her makeup, and left to go shopping.

She returned an hour later with thick cream colored stationery**,** a new fountain pen, a roll of stamps and a copy of _Etiquette in Society, in Business in Politics and at Home_, by Emily Post.

She knew she wouldn't sleep for a long time, so she made a pot of tea with calm steady hands, sat down at her desk and began to write, over and over:

We regret to inform you

That, by mutual consent

The marriage of

Marion Ravenwood

And

Henry Jones, Jr.

Will not take place

A few sheets were marred by tearstains, but she'd bought extra just in case. By 3:00 AM, she had a stack of neatly addressed envelopes stamped and ready to mail. _At least Indy gave me enough time to write instead of 'phoning. It does make it easier…_

Marion was exhausted, but she was _never _going to lie in that bed again. When she grabbed a pillow and blanket to carry out to the living room, Indy's discarded pajamas appeared. She picked up the top, rested her face on it and inhaled his scent, so familiar, still beloved. She carried the top to the couch with her and held it as, at last, the tears came and she cried herself to sleep.

The second day Marion picked up her list right after breakfast. By ten o'clock she'd written a note cancelling their officiant and enclosed his honorarium. By noon she had mailed the envelopes, and gone to the bank. By five she'd cancelled the florist, the reception hall, musicians, and caterer. She'd told them all something vague about a sudden death in her family, _such a dreadful shock_, and a private ceremony in the pastor's office to be held later. Whether or not they were taken in, the vendors expressed their sympathy- and gratitude. Times were hard, so Marion paid them in full. She even included a generous tip for the caterer's staff and the florist's delivery boy. She wasn't charitable enough to use her money from the Museum , though-she and the baby would need that to live on during the time she'd be unable to work. Indy had put her name on his account, and she figured Jones, damn him, could foot the bills and deal with the consequences of his actions for once. She sealed the receipts in an envelope and wrote 'Henry Jones' on the flap. Then she forced herself to buy some dinner for the baby's sake, ate it mechanically and went home.

By the third day her phone had started to ring_. There's no one I want to talk to, _she thought._ I don't owe those people an explanation, and they won't be seeing me again if I can help it. Indy can tell his friends what he likes. Though it __would__ be entertaining to see him squirm when they ask questions… _ So she took the phone off the hook and stuffed it under the couch cushions. Then she gathered her courage and brought Indy's remaining clothes to a laundry and her wedding dress to the Salvation Army. She thought wistfully of the happy bride who would be radiant in her lovely gown. _Hope her luck is better than mine…_

The fourth day was exhausting. Marion had spent it negotiating with movers, and buying a trunk to ship Indy's remaining books and clothes back to Barnett College in Fairfield. She had just kicked off her shoes and sat down when there was a knock on her door. What the hell….

"Hello, Marion" said Colin Williams. "May I come in? I brought food."


	2. Chapter 2

Colin opened the bag he was carrying just far enough to allow an enticing aroma to escape.

"Colin! I..."

"Didn't expect to see me? No, I fancy you didn't. But I got your note and I, well thought you might appreciate a hot meal and a friendly face."

Much to her own surprise, Marion smiled. "Oh, more than you know."

Colin shut the door behind him and began unloading waxed cardboard cartons onto the coffee table "It's Chinese. "

Marion suddenly discovered that she was ravenous, that fried rice sounded wonderful, and chop suey sounded even better. She and Colin filled their plates, sat facing each other on the couch, and tucked in.

When they finished eating, there was an awkward silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" said Colin.

"Not much to tell, I'm afraid. Indy's decided that the Cross of Coronado is his one true love, and he'd rather light out in search of it than be with me. So he left me a note and went on his merry way."

Colin leaned forward and gave her an incredulous stare. "A week before your _wedding_? And he left you a _note_? Are you telling me that the man didn't even have the decency to _speak_ to you?"

Marion sighed. "That's our Indy, Col."

"Look, I've known Indy for years, and _I swear_ I'd never have believed this of him. Neither would you, I daresay. This-this is unspeakable. This is _vile_. Has he no shame?"

"What Indy has or doesn't have isn't my problem anymore," said Marion firmly. Then she looked at Colin with imploring blue eyes, and his heart turned over.

"Now for God's sake Colin,_ please_ treat this as a confidence. I don't want pity, or sympathy, or gossip or scandal. All anyone else needs to know is that Indy and I decided we wouldn't suit and broke our engagement."

Colin paused for a moment, then looked at her and nodded. "All right. Much as I'd love to see Jones get the censure he deserves, the innocent shouldn't suffer with the guilty. So what now? Whither Marion Ravenwood?"

"I'll need a few more days the put my affairs here in order-Indy _obviously _had no idea of the amount of bother it is to call off a wedding. Or"-she sighed-"maybe he just didn't care. Then I'll be moving on-not sure where to, yet. I'll be gone when Indy gets back, and he can just get on with his life."

"Marion"- Colin scrupulously avoided using the endearments came so easily to Indy- "It speaks well of your character that you're doing this-tying up all these loose ends- but you don't have to protect Jones. That bounder can clean up his own mess. You don't owe him a thing."

Marion snorted. "Oh, I don't owe Henry Jones the time of day, and I know it. But" her voice softened in spite of herself," the man I loved, the man who" –Marion took a deep breath-"fathered the child I'm carrying-maybe I need to do this for him."

"Jesus Christ! And on top of all this you're pregnant? Does he know?"

Marion shook her head. "And he isn't to know, Colin, _promise _me. "

Colin gave her a gobsmacked stare. "You're not planning on _telling _him?"

"Not now, at any rate. A clean break is best, trust me. Indy left me because" –her chin trembled, just a little-"because he _chose _to. A baby won't change that, even though he might feel obligated to 'do right' by me. We 'd break up sooner or later, and I won't be left to live on Indy's charity or to wait in the shadows while he sees the baby once a month and romances some other woman."

She smiled and reached out to touch his hand."I'll be fine, Col. I've been making my own way in the world for a long, long time. I can handle this."

Underneath his stiff British upper lip Colin was a maelstrom of emotions. He wanted to give Indiana Jones the thrashing he deserved for putting pain into those blue eyes –those beautiful eyes that were meant for nothing but hope and joy. He wanted to pump his fist with elation because Marion was turning to him-_him _in her hour ofneed. And he wanted to put his arms around that brave darling girl and keep her safe forever and ever.

On a sudden impulse, Colin wetted is lips and took her hand. "Marion" he said hesitantly "I could never speak to you of this, before, but surely you must have been aware that my feelings for you-go beyond friendship."

Marion looked down, but didn't pull her hand away. "I was, Col. A woman always knows." She sniffled. "Indy and I actually fought about you some. He said that I should have been doing more to, um, discourage your attentions."

"Nonsense" Colin responded firmly. "You never did anything to _encourage_ them. I simply couldn't help the way I felt-the way I _do_ feel. I know I'm making a balls-up of this, but what I'm trying to say is-you don't have to do this alone, Marion. I can't bear the thought of you struggling along in a strange place without a friend in the world. And then when the baby comes…. Will you not allow me to at least stand your friend? I'll ask for nothing more than to know that you and the little one are cared for and safe."

Marion blinked back tears. "I can't love you, Colin. I can't love anyone that way anymore, and that's just not fair to you."

Colin reached out a to brush her still-flat stomach with his fingertips . "The only person you need to worry about" he said gently, "is right there. The rest of us will muddle through somehow."

Marion gave him a damp-and utterly heart stopping-smile. "Did you always want to be a knight in shining armor, Col?"

He chuckled "_I am_ a King's Scout. And I used to read my _Boy's Own _every month. So I must have, I guess."

"I ought to say no."

"Don't. At least let me come and help you pack tomorrow. You shouldn't be lifting things in your delicate condition."

"Delicate condition, my ass," said Marion with a shaky grin. "But I'd appreciate the help and the company."

Colin left soon after. He gave her a quick hug when she walked him to the door. After he was gone, Marion cleared the coffee table and settled on the couch for the night.

_Colin Williams. Col, of all people._ Oh what the hell-she had known he was interested, he'd made it pretty clear…especially one night last summer. _That _had ended with Indy dragging her off a dance floor with her wrist in his iron grip, and his mouth set in a thin line below blazing hazel eyes

"In case you lost the memo, _sweetheart_," Indy had hissed furiously, "that ring on your hand came from ME. So guess what-_I_ come first. _** I**_ don't cut in on Colin or anyone else to dance with my own fiancée. And if you don't tell that son of a bitch where his hands belong you can bet your ass that I will!"

Marion had thought Indy's possessiveness rather charming, but in retrospect his jealousy and competitiveness with other men were starting to look a little…._well._

_Indy didn't resent Colin for being attracted to me, _she thought suddenly_. Indy resented Colin for being the kind of man he used to be- and isn't any longer_.

She lay back on her pillow, watching the moonlight on the ceiling and rubbing her stomach in gentle circles. _Kiddo, as far as I'm concerned, your father was the man I fell in love with all those years ago-and _he's _the man I'm going to remember. Not the man who left us- not the man he's become._

_Maybe that was the karma, this time around, she thought sleepily. Indy was meant to come back to me, for a time, so that I could conceive this baby. Col would say I'm crazy for thinking this, but maybe the Ark had something to do with it, as well. Abner's obsession with the Ark cost me my childhood, my first baby and the last ten years. Not to mention my first love_. _The love of my life_. She chuckled mirthlessly to herself._ Looks like not even the Hebrew God could give me my Indy back, but perhaps He's making what reparations He can. He gave me back Indy's child. Because if there were any innocents in that sorry mess in '26, a girl of 17 and the baby she carried surely qualified. And if there's an innocent now, _she thought at her belly_, it's you. And nothing and nobody will take you away from me this time. _

Marion clutched her pillow, and closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Colin arrived early the next day, and suggested breakfast.

"Unless, of course, you're sick in the morning?"

Marion smiled tolerantly. "Colin. Women have been having babies for a very long time. I'm not made of glass, and I'm fine. Really."

Colin called a cab and took her to a mom-and-pop diner near the airport. In spite of herself, Marion had to admit that she enjoyed his gentle attention as much as she enjoyed her fluffy omelet, crisp toast and strong, steaming coffee. _When did Indy stop looking at me that way?_ The little café was full of pilots and mechanics, and Colin seemed to know many of them. Marion smiled and tried to ignore their curious glances .

After the waitress cleared their plates, a man in a flight suit arrived at their table. He had a shock of red hair above a tanned friendly face.

"Colin Williams, as I live and breathe!" he said. "I was going to ring you with a little business offer, and you've just saved me the trouble."

Colin half rose to shake the other man's hand. "Nigel Stewart, Marion Ravenwood. Nige likes to dress up and play like he's a pilot, Marion. The rest of us tolerate him because he makes us laugh."

"Don't believe this blighter, Miss Ravenwood. Colin here likes to pretend that bucket of bolts he flies is an actual plane. The rest of us make money betting on when he'll crash next."

"All joking aside, Nige is one of the best in the North Atlantic."

"Col really means best_ looking_."

Marion smiled at the two men's obvious camaraderie and friendship. _They sound just like Indy and Sallah_… "Won't you join us, Mr. Stewart?"

Nigel slipped into the booth and accepted a cup of coffee.

"The reason I was looking for you, Col, is that Reg Thompson wants to stay stateside anther week, and I'm scheduled to make the Blighty run in two days. Still interested in hitching a ride?"

"Might be, actually," said Colin. "I'm not rated on the DC-3 but I could take a shift or two at Nav and Com , or in the right seat as long as I don't have to land her."

"That would be a Godsend, mate. It's not the time of year to be flying that run with your crew a man short."

At this point the conversation became alarmingly technical. Marion, who was discovering that early pregnancy involved frequent trips to the loo, excused herself to the ladies_._

When she left the table, Nigel smiled at his friend.

"So that's the girl you've been eating your heart out for, Col? She's a _knockout!"_

Colin smiled "Isn't she? And yesterday was my lucky day-her wedding's off, the son of a bitch jilted her."

Nigel raised his coffee in a silent toast. "Jilt a woman like her? Jones is an _idiot,_ but nothing new there. Well, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, as my mum used to say. And I see _you_, my lad, aren't wasting any time."

"Well, it's not quite like that. Marion has no family, few friends stateside that she doesn't share with Jones, and she's been left in a rather tight spot."

Nigel caught Colin's eye, and held it. _ "_Like_ that, _is it? You know I've always thought Jones rather a piece of work-but _this…. _So the good doctor got her 'in the club' before he up and left, did he?"

"You didn't hear that from me."

"And nobody will hear it from me. So, Col, shall I have an extra stowaway to England's green and pleasant land?"

Colin paused, considering. "You're a clever bloke, Nige. Taking her to Blighty would get her safe and amongst friends quickly. I could bring her to London-wouldn't take much for my Mum to take her part. And if she's well away from Jones… all the better for me."

"People will think it's yours."

"Let them. If that baby comes with Marion, you can call me 'Da' any time."

"You know your own business best. Ring me if I can help."

When Marion came back the two men were shaking hands and Colin was signaling for the check

On the way back (not home, not home anymore) Colin said, "So what's on the agenda, sweetheart?

Her heart squeezed painfully. "Don't call me that."

There was an awkward moment, as Colin flushed and cleared his throat. "I _am _sorry" he said finally, "that was thoughtless of me."

"I'm sorry, too, but right now I don't want to hear another nickname for as long as I live."

"Understandable," said Colin_. And it is, _he thought_. Every other word out of that bastard's mouth was 'honey, baby, sweetheart, darling'. Fat lot of good it's done her…_

Marion smiled and changed the subject. "Today's a bit complicated. The movers are coming tomorrow, so I need to pack my clothes and the rest of Indy's personal belongings, and box up the kitchen things to give away."

"Aren't you taking any of those with you?"

"No, I won't take anything I used to cook for Indy. Some other woman can enjoy using them for her man. I want a fresh start without the reminders of him."

_Bit late for that,_ Colin thought. _You'll have one hell of a little reminder in seven or eight months, darling._

He changed the subject, instead. "Any wedding gifts? What about them?"

"Oh, _damn_. I've sent thank you notes, but I'm sure Emily Post will say they ought to be returned. I'm awfully tempted to ship them back with his clothes and let Jones handle them."

"Oh, when he's eighty-five?"

Marion snickered. "There is that. No, I'll take care of it. Best to start as you mean to go on."

Colin smiled- a wide, genuine smile. "My Mum says that-often. I think you and she would deal extremely well, Marion. She's knocked around the world a good bit, too-ran my grandfather's tea plantation from when she was 15 or so until she married my Dad. She's a little thing like you, no bigger than a tuppence, but Da says she has more pluck in her little finger than most men do in their whole bodies."

"She sounds nice."

"Oh she is. You remind me of her. May I call you that- Tuppence, after her? It suits you."

Marion's heart ached at the thought of another man and his special pet names for her that she would never hear again. Still, one must start as one meant to go on…

"You're a foolish man, Col. But if you insist….."

The morning passed quickly, as Marion packed her clothes and Colin emptied the kitchen cupboards. At noon, Marion called a halt and Colin proposed a trip to the delicatessen.

"You're looking a bit peaked, Tuppence. Why don't you stay here and rest? Just put your feet up and listen to the wireless. I shan't be long."

Marion was tiring a little more easily these days and didn't feel like putting up much of a fight.

She was dozing on the couch when Colin returned.

"Brought you something" he called. For a moment Marion heard another man's voice- "_Brought you something, Short Stuff…." _She shook her head and looked up.

"Marion, my dear" said Harold Oxley.

Marion sprang up, and Ox enfolded her in a warm embrace, most unlike his usual reserved and proper self.

"I just got into town-Colin rang me at my hotel. Oh, dear girl-I came up here to walk you down the aisle at your wedding, and now this. I am so sorry. "

Marion clung to Ox for a long moment, and then she lifted her head.

"Thank you, Ox."

"It's his loss, my dear."

"I don't want this to affect your friendship with Indy."

Ox squeezed her hand.

"Marion," he said resolutely, "Some actions have consequences. Colin has told me of your attempts to shield Henry from scandal. They're understandable, and in many ways praiseworthy. But the world is a better place when decent men uphold a code of honorable behavior. As your friend and a friend of your father's, I've a bone to pick with that cad, Henry Jones- and rightfully so. Now, archaeology is a small world, and we'll likely cross paths, but he'll receive nothing but the cut direct from me."

"Hear hear, Ox "said Colin, "And no more than the bounder deserves Maybe you've spent so long in the back-beyond, Marion, that you've forgotten how this works. Now we're not all saints and monks in the backcountry…"

"Certainly not" Marion interjected dryly.

"I say, Marion, I may earn my bread and butter in some out of the way places, but _my _father taught me to behave like a gentleman, thank you very much. And Dad would say that a man who proposes marriage to a woman and then treats his fiancée worse than one treats a"-Colin paused-"woman of 'a certain class'- is _not on- _simply_ not on."_

Marion smiled at her defenders. "Thank you, gentlemen.'

The three friends ate a deli lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon filling a trunk with Indiana'sbooks, clothes and miscellaneous-things-left- behind.

"Priceless artifacts", Ox grumbled, "and the blighter scatters them like ninepins and leaves them billy-o…"

Marion became pensive as the last layer of clean shirts from the laundry was laid on top. "I'm not sure what to do about one last thing."

"And what's that, my dear?" asked Ox.

"My-my engagement ring "

"As best I know", Ox replied, "a lady whose fiancé broke their engagement is entitled to keep the ring."

"That's what Emily Post says, but this ring was his mother's, and he loved her so. I _shouldn't_ keep it. Ordinarily, if Indy was out of the country, I could return it to his family, couldn't I?"

"Yes."

"Now I _think_ Dr. Jones Sr. is at Princeton, but Indy's barely spoken to his father in 20 years. He didn't even invite him to our wedding."

"You know," Ox remarked thoughtfully, "it says a good deal about a man when his own father refuses to acknowledge him."

"It does" agreed Colin. "That's a red flag that we were all a little too ready to ignore."

"Marcus Brody is Indy's godfather, isn't he Ox?" asked Marion.

"If he is, piss-poor job he's done of instilling character in his charge…"

"_Colin..."_

"Sorry, Tuppence. That's hardly helping you, is it?"

"Emily didn't have anything to say about this but I thought you'd know, Ox-is a godfather an acceptable substitute for a blood relative?"

"In this case, I should think so."

"Well then. I'll pack the ring and whatever else he left to be sent to Dr. Brody. Why don't the two of you take the wedding gifts to the Post Office and mail them? That's one more thing to get out of the way and –her voice wavered, just a little, "I'd _really _rather be alone for this part."

Colin hesitated, but Ox pulled him in by eye and the two men, packages in hand_, _promised to be back soon_._

Marion sat in the in the living room and listened as their footstepsfaded away. She gathered a box, some tissue paper and cotton wool left over from packing the wedding gifts. Then she opened the top dresser drawer on- _not Indy's side, not any longer_…... and took it to the bed to empty it . She was oddly comforted to see how much had been left behind. There was Indy's dress watch, and the gold and onyx cufflinks she had given him last Christmas. There was a tie tack from the University of Chicago, and a money clip made out of a gold doubloon, a gift from Marcus Brody when he'd gotten his D. Phil. _These things meant something to Indy. if he'd been planning to leave me for a long time, he would have taken them with him. Doesn't make you any less of a bastard , Jones, but it will be easier to explain to Skeezix here.. _

Then she pulled out a small box that held matching gold wedding bands. '_May you wear them in good health for many long and happy years' _the jeweler had said. They'd walked out of his shop, hand in hand, dizzy with happiness.

Marion wrapped each piece in tissue paper and packed them carefully in cotton wool . Last of all, she picked up the faded velvet ring box that had belonged to Anna Jones. It opened with a faint 'snick. '

She looked down sadly at the glowing sapphire on her hand. "_Doesn't shine any brighter than your eyes, baby_ …" Indy had smiled that soft loving smile that was hers alone when he'd slipped it on her finger. "_My life has been a mess since 26, honey, but_ finally _something's gone right-now that I've got my sweet baby back ….You're the best thing that ever happened to me and there are no words good enough for the way I feel about you…"_

She started to jerk the ring from her finger, like pulling a band aid off a scab. But somehow she just couldn't do that. So Marion took off her ring, gently and slowly, then raised the gold band to her lips.

"I'll take good care of your grandbaby, Anna ," she said softly. "I promise. As for that boy of yours, I guess that's up to you, now." She put the ring back in its box and tucked it in with the rest of the jewelry.

Something still needed doing, and Marion suddenly knew what it was. No pleas, no tears, no farewells or recriminations-just five words written on a leftover sheet of stationery folded up with Indy's things. . Then Marion carried the package into the living room, and taped it shut. And held it, cradled against her like a child, until she heard Ox and Colin's returning steps.


	4. Chapter 4

Colin opened the door, took one look at Marion's face and decided on the spot that a firing squad was more mercy than that bounder, that bastard, that utter _whoreson_ Jones deserved. Hell-_keelhauling _was too good for the son of a bitch. But that wonderful little woman was trying so hard to be brave, the least a decent chap could do was play along. And hope that he'd be the one there to hold her when she finally broke down.

So instead of taking her in his arms he put on a cheerful face and said "We rang Brody's office while we were out, Tuppence."

Ox gave a quick sideways glance at the nickname, but held his peace.

"He's expecting a delivery tomorrow-I thought that one of us could bring your package and have Brody or his secretary sign for it. They do that all the time at the Museum- I've flown artifacts in for them before. Then you put the receipt in the trunk with Indiana's things, or mail it to him, and Bob's your uncle."

Marion nodded approvingly. Col did have a knack for rescuing –well not exactly damsels in distress, but certainly women and children. Even if the children in question had yet to be born.

"I could bring it over there," Ox offered.

"No, "said Colin decisively. "Best someone else does that. You'll meet Brody professionally, Ox, you don't want to leave yourself open to questions. Marion's plans aren't any of his affair, or Jones', after this. Unless you choose to make them so, of course," he added politely to Marion.

"Not bloody likely, Col" she answered.

"Right then", said Oxley. "But, my dear, you will need to explain the contents of the package and your intentions in some way. If you are being magnanimous enough to return the ring and Henry's effects, you deserve to not be maligned as a 'gold-digger.' I suppose you could ring Brody and tell him yourself…"

Marion shook her head "No. I haven't spoken to any of Indy's friends-present company excepted, of course ." She smiled wistfully, with a significant look at Colin. "Starting as I mean to go on, I guess. If I say nothing, they all have the same information…"

"Or lack thereof," interjected Ox.

"Exactly. If I open my mouth and give them-especially those old-bat faculty wives- something to gossip about, our story will make the rounds of every departmental party that's thrown over the holidays. On the other hand, if there's no grist for their mill, Indy and I are a nine-day's wonder that's forgotten by Christmas. "

"You're one smart little cookie," said Colin approvingly.

"And she's absolutely right" Ox added.

"Well, I _did _start out as a professor's daughter. I know how they think. "

Colin snorted. "Though you're wrong about one thing, Tuppence. You still haven't spoken to any of Jones' _friends. _You've spoken to _Col and_ _Ox_-who are no longer numbered amongst that select company."

"Oh, _you two_" Marion reproved. "I'm a big girl, really, and I can take care of myself. Why don't I just write Marcus a note?They seem to be popular lately" she added, a little bitterly, "and it would be a damn sight less awkward."

Ox looked thoughtful. "It would be kinder to Brody, who's done nothing wrong, to avoid putting him in the position of either apologizing for something he hasn't done, or excusing Henry's behavior, which no decent man could."

"I agree," said Marion. "Marcus is an innocent bystander. But I think Emily Post is out of ideas for this one. Ox, can you help me compose something?"

Marion and Ox sat by the coffee table, heads together, while Colin excused himself to make phone calls.

Finally Marion looked up from her tablet and asked "All right, boys, tell me how this sounds?" She cleared her throat and read:

_December 1937_

_Dear Doctor Brody,_

_As you know, Indiana Jones and I have parted ways. I have made other plans for my future, and regret to say that it's unlikely you and I will meet again. Please accept my best wishes, and my thanks for your friendship. I will remember you well._

_I am also writing to ask a favor. I would prefer to return the ring Indiana gave me, since it was his mother's. To the best of my knowledge, however, he is not presently in-country. I do not know when, or if, he will return. I am therefore sending the ring to you for safekeeping. I also include some small personal items that Indy left behind. I believe they have sentimental value. Thank you very much for your help._

_Kindest regards,_

_Marion Ravenwood_

"Nicely done, both of you," said Colin. "Gracious, dignified and to the point. You've certainly taken the high road these past few days, Marion" he added approvingly

Marion, who had been heading toward her desk for an envelope, turned on one hip and gave him the ghost of her old sassy grin. "I lived in Nepal for a while, Col. I really believe that karma comes back because I've seen it-a few too many times. And I'm telling you, She can be a bitch when it's time to collect. Jones can pay the tab on this one all by himself. "

_And he will_, she thought to herself. Marion knew that she had far too much on her plate to waste time worrying about the man who'd gotten her into this mess. Nevertheless, her heart hurt and her eyes prickled at the thought of her Indy as a lonely old man. She tossed her head. _Damn hormones…_

A moment of silence stretched out a little too long.

"So, said Oxley, rather too cheerfully, I think we've put in a long day and deserve some relaxation"

"I agree, said Colin. "We could go to the cinema. "

"Or the theatre", said Ox

"I'd like the theatre," said Marion after a moment. "I don't know exactly where I'm going, but I know I'll be leaving New York. They have cinemas everywhere..."

"But there's only one Broadway!" Colin grinned. "What do you want to see, Marion?"

"I don't know- something cheerful, though"

"Dinner and the theatre it is, then. Why don't you get changed and I'll see what I can do about reservations."

The two men eyed each other after Marion left the room.

"Anything to take her mind off," said Colin quietly.

"Should I leave?" asked Ox.

"Good God, no! If any of Jones' friends see Marion in public with me, it's a short stop to the type of scandal she's tried so hard to avoid. I If they meet her with you, it's an unexceptionable evening with an old family friend. And if a mutual acquaintance happens to join you for a drink, well…"

"I _had _heard of some …rivalry… between you and Indiana for the affections of his fair lady."

"Not in the least, Ox. You can't have a rivalry where there's no competition. Now I won't deny that I've had feelings for Marion for some time-damn woman stole my heart the day I met her. "

Colin lowered his voice and looked earnestly at the other man. "But Ox, you must understand that, little though he deserved it, Marion was absolutely faithful to Indiana. She never gave me the slightest sign that she felt more than friendship for me. Hardly fair if she's …besmirched…by idle tongues that say otherwise."

"You certainly rushed to her side…"

"Can't blame a chap for trying, can you? And one can't ask a decent man to stay idle when a woman he cares for has been left in such…straits."

"No", said Ox, "I don't suppose one could".

Further conversation was interrupted when Marion came out of the bedroom, dazzling in a beaded black cocktail dress and fur wrap. She'd swept her hair to one side with a jeweled clip, her only ornament besides a pair of pearl earrings. And her eyes.

Both men rose at her entrance. Colin smiled and took her arm. "You're a vision."

Marion inclined her head at the compliment. "Thank you, Col. So gentlemen, where are we going?"

"Well, dinner first. Then to _Babes in Arms_ at the Majestic. It's a musical-Rogers and Hart- no plot whatsoever, but the score is brilliant. Just the thing to put us all in a good mood"

Several hours later they stepped out into the chilly air outside the theatre on West 44th street. Colin was singing softly "_We looked at each other in the same way then, but I don't remember where or when…"_

Marion almost laughed. "Do you always sing the score, Col?"

"I've been told it's one of my least endearing traits, but, yes, usually."

"I suppose as annoying traits go it's not so bad..."

"I sing in the shower, as well..."

Marion looked up from under her eyelashes with the faintest spark of a flirtatious glance. "Well, I don't know about _that_…"

Ox stepped out to the curb and hailed a cab. When they all piled in he gave the address of his hotel.

"I'm all in; I'll see you both in the morning. Will you escort Marion home, Colin?"

"Of course."

When they reached her apartment building, Colin gallantly walked Marion to her door.

She paused and smiled at him "This _is_ strange, Col, she said "We haven't exactly been on a _date_, and most all my glasses are packed. But would you like to ...come up, for a drink?" Colin knew it was too soon, but that didn't stop his heart from beating faster.

"I would" he answered. He paid the fare, tipped the cabbie generously and said, "There's more where that come from if you can be back here in, say, an hour and a half?"

"Looker like _her?"_ Said the cabbie. "An hour and a _half?"_ Colin pressed another bill into his hand. "Suit yourself, Mac, I'll be here."

Marion let Colin into the apartment, and switched on the light in the living room. Then she licked her lips and turned to face him.

"Well, Col" she said softly.

"Well, Marion."

"Is this when I get you thank you _very nicely_ for your kindness and help?"

Colin closed his eyes as several dizzying possibilities occurred to him… But his desire was quenched by a spurt of fierce anger at whatever useless excuse for a human being had taught her to expect this.

He took Marion's hand and gazed down at her, love and dismay in his eyes. "Is _that_ what you think? That I've only been skulking about waiting for you to pay up on your back? Good _God_, Tuppence. What kind of man do you think I_ am_?"

He lifted his hand to her cheek. "Marion, you're a wonderful woman, and a very lovely one. Can't blame a man for wanting to be with you 'that way.' But I'm beginning to think that there's been a severe shortage of decent blokes in your life." Colin shook his head in disbelief. "You surely can't think that I'd…take advantage…of a defenseless woman in your condition who's been left in these circumstances."

"Why not?" She asked. "There are men who would…"

"I know", said Colin. "And plenty of them. But none of those chaps are Stephen Williams' son, I can tell you_ that. _ And as to why _I_ wouldn't- well. I won't deny I'd be happy if you came to me someday. But if you do, it should be because you want _me,_ Colin, not because it's 'any port in a storm'.

Marion closed her eyes and blew out her breath "Thank you, Col. I don't deserve this."

"I don't need any thanks for being a minimally decent man. As to what you deserve, it's obviously far more than you've been getting, I'll say that much. "

Marion headed for the cupboard "I'd still like to get you a drink."

Colin sat on the sofa and watched her "Whiskey?"

Marion brought a whiskey for Colin and a very un-Marion-like glass of water for herself.

"Nothing for you?"

She kicked her heels off and sat down next to him. "Can't hold it down, sadly. That's what made me suspect in the first place."

Colin took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "So tell me. When is the baby due? Have you a doctor here?"

"I went to a doctor here, to but I don't plan on staying in New York. And I won't give birth at a hospital in any case." Unconsciously, her hands cupped her belly, sheltering and protecting, and she set her jaw determinedly.

_Must be a story there_, Colin thought. _And I'll wager it's not a pretty one._

"So I've given all this some thought and I've decided what I want is a midwife who speaks Hindustani or Nepalese. I saw a few births when I lived in Patan. I liked the way they do things there-, it seems to be easier and a lot less fuss, and the babies do just fine."

"Mostly they do" said Colin "but sometimes in those countries , they die. And a lot of the women die as well"

"Women can die in any case. That's why I'm glad _someone_ knows who fathered my baby", she said somberly. "I've no family, really, just an aunt on my mother's side that I hardly know."

Marion's hands gripped each other tightly. "Colin- I've no right to ask this, but would you do something for me?"

_Anything, darling_... "What?"

"If something does happen to me, would you tell Indy he' s a father?" Marion's chin started to tremble and her sweet, husky voice held a frightened note. "I know Indy doesn't w-want me and he wouldn't want to raise our-our baby. But don't you think he'd make some provision for _his own child _if he had to, surely he wouldn't let the baby go to an" –she choked-"_orphanage…_…" Blue eyes looked at Colin appealingly.

_That's the most goddamn pathetic thing I've ever heard_, Colin thought. _And she has no idea_. _Rot in hell, Jones. Rot in hell_.

Colin slid over on the sofa and put his arm around Marion. His gesture was friendly rather than sexual and his words were almost brotherly. "Now, now, Tuppence, nothing like that is going to happen to you. It's the pregnancy I daresay. You're getting wound up and borrowing trouble, my sister Vicky was the same way. Here, blow your nose, and you'll soon be right."

Marion took his offered handkerchief, and wiped her face.

Colin patted her back and spoke gently. "Even if something happens to you, your baby has friends and we'll make it come right. Indiana may be impervious to shame, but I imagine his father is not. Ox was telling me that most teachers nowadays have a morals clause in their contracts. Both of those men have _plenty _to lose if this story gets out. If you're not there to care for the child, Ox and I can hold that over their heads. We'll make damn sure that the good Doctors Jones provide for their own flesh and blood. You needn't worry."

"Ox doesn't know about the baby."

"Ox may suspect- Ox is no fool."

Colin thought about drawing her closer, but he settled for giving her should a squeeze. "Marion, what I actually came up to talk with you about is –I'm leaving soon."

Marion's heart sank. _Men leave. Always they leave…_

"So I wanted to ask you if you've ever considered going to England. You met my friend Nigel; he's doing the Blighty run day after tomorrow .."

"Blighty run? He's flying to England?"

"Yes . There are four stops-New York to Newfoundland, then to Ireland and England. It's mail and freight , not passengers. Nigel's crew is short a man and he offered me a chance to fill it out. I spoke with him on the 'phone earlier while you and Ox were writing."

Marion looked inquiring.

"If you have a passport"-she nodded-"and you really don't want to be found, this would be one way to leave the country without a trace. There would be no ticket in your name, and you wouldn't appear on any passenger manifests. "

"You're right, I hadn't thought of that".

"Tuppence, I've known Indiana for years. He'll come back at some point expecting to find you. When he sees you're gone, he'll likely go on a bender. But when he sobers up, he'll start looking. And whatever else he may be, Jones is damn good at finding things."

Marion's chin came up. "He can start in Hell- I won't be there, but it should suit him."

Colin smiled tenderly. "There's a brave little Mum. But seriously Marion- Indian expats are thick on the ground in London. I'll wager you could get your midwife with no trouble at all. And-well, there's 'Clan MacWilliams'.

"Clan MacWilliams?"

My family and friends. I've told you I think you and my Mum would get along like a house on fire. Mum's, well, not my story to tell- but she's walked a few miles in your shoes. And the rest of us would come to like you as much as I do. You'd be safe and among friends. And far, far, _far _away from Indiana Jones."

Marion swallowed. _Start as you mean to go on_… she thought.

"That's a remarkable offer, Col. Do you mind if I sleep on it?"

Colin rose. "Not in the least. Now I'd best be going- the cabbie will be back anytime."

He put a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Goodnight Tuppence. I'll be back in the morning to get the package for Brody. Sleep well."

"Good night, Col."

Marion stayed awake on the couch for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ox" said Marion the next morning, "I have to go to the bank-the moving men will only take cash. Colin will be here sometime before nine, to take this."

She held out a sturdy package, neatly wrapped and tied with twine. _My__ last tie to Indy_ she thought. _E__xcept for one, of course..._

"If I miss him tell him thank you, and I'll see you both for dinner tonight." She hurried down the stairs, followed by a worried look form Oxley.

Promptly at nine, there was a knock on Marion's door.

"Good mornig Ox", Colin said pleasantly. "We've come to make that little delivery for Marion."

Nigel Stewart followed Colin into the apartment. Oxley greeted him with a courteosly proffered hand and an uplifted brow.

"And you might be, sir?"

NIgel shook the other man's hand. "Nigel Stewart, Dr. Oxley. I don't believe we've met. Colin asked me to help him with his business today."

"I'm afraid, Mr. Stewart", said Oxley "that Miss Ravenwood is not here at present. I'm but her locum until the movers arrive."

He gestured to the furniture and boxes in the living room. "And I fear I've nothing to offer you beyond a glass of water. "

Nigel glanced around him and smiled. "That's quite all right, sir. I don't need anything."

"Then if you'll excuse us, Mr. Stewart, I should like a word with Colin."

Ox pulled Colin into the warren of taped boxes that had formerly been Marion Ravenwood's kitchen and spoke under his breath.

"What in God's name were you thinking to drag someone else into this, Col? And who is the man, anyway?"

Colin matched him tone for tone. "Nige is one of my closest friends, and I trust him absolutely. He's an honourable man who can keep his own counsel. Tomorow, he'll piloting the plane that will hopefully fly Marion and me to England. Today he's my wingman for this mission."

Oxley frowned, clearly skeptical.

Colin had spent time in the field with both Indiana and Oxley, and he sincerely enjoyed his fellow Briton's company. But 'The Ox' was a brilliant man with his head in the clouds and he could be damned obtuse at times. This semed to be one of them. He sighed and tried again.

"Ox, in the first place, most courier assignments require that two men make delivery- I suppose it's to be sure that one chap doesn't abscond with the goods. In the second place, see here. It does you credit that you're reluctant to believe ill of a man who-well, _was_ our friend. But think-Indiana's word that he's leaving the country is likely worth just as much as all the other promises he made that girl."

_"I see_," said Ox, looking thoughtful.

"Right. Nige has strict orders to keep me from handing the cad a facer if we do see him."

Ox still looked unhappy; and Colin suddenly realised what was troubling him. "_You needn't lump me in with a man like Jones_, thank you," he said firmly. "I'm not proposing to set Marion up as my mistress once we get to London. He pulled a crumpled sheet of paper form his pocket and passed it to the other man. "I wired my_ Mum and Da _yesterday- they're willing to have her stay with them until she finds her feet. I was hoping to see her this morning so I could tell her."

Ox caught his friend's eye and spoke gently. "Colin, she's loved Indiana since she was a girl. She can't be faulted if handing over her last momento of him was -too much for her to bear."

_And in her condition, too,_ Colin thought. "Poor little mite" he said after a pause. "At least we can settle this last for her-shipshape and Bristol fashion. Wish us luck."

"Good luck and Godspeed, then" said Oxley and handed Colin the parcel. "I'll tend to matters here."

Colin and Nigel had planned on a quick stop at the National Museum. But when they arrived, the found all the offices closed and workmen busily repairing a leak in the roof.

Colin turned ruefully to his companion. "Nothing for it, I'm afraid. It's a cab to Grand Central and the train to that college where Jones and Brody teach. I've been there before. "

When they arrived in Fairfield, they took a cab to the Barnett campus. The Archaeology Department was housed in a handsome neogothic building that fronted onto a tree-lined quadrangle, glittering with fresh snow and winter sun.

Colin bounced a bit on his heels and looked around, eyes gleaming, flexing his hands. Nigel knew that look of old, and stopped to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We can't have a scene, Col, " he said quietly. " If Jones is here, I'll take the packet in by myself. Not that I don't symnpathise" he added-"my Dad would thrash any man who did this to my sister within an inch of his life. And I'd be right behind him."

"_My_ Da," Colin added, "Would use a horsewhip. But you're right. Our job is to shield Marion from scandal and cover her retreat. And who knows- Fate may take a hand and give Jones what he he deserves."

Colin and Nigel headed for to the Acheology Department, which occupied a faux tower at one end of the building. In the tower, faculty offices were arranged like spokes on a wheel , with an elegant, mahogany-paneld reception area serving as the hub. The room was dominated by an impressive desk and credenza An attractive dark haired woman sat behind them, answering the phone. Colin glanced through the door, then put his finger to his lips and stepped back into the hall.

"What-ho? Is Jones there?" hissed Nigel, who seemed to have forgotten all about avoiding a scene.

" Not he's not, lucky for him. But our job just got a damn sight easier, mate. I know that girl. And I think I have a plan..."

Miss Irene Appleton prided herself on being one of the best secretaries at Barnett College. Her impeccable typing was both swift and error-free, her shorthand, superb, and she had managed to wrestle most of the Archaeology Department's files into submission within three months of being transferred there. Her scheduling was a thing of beauty, and she handled a myriad of student requests and faculty appointments with unruffled aplomb. Best of all, she adored her fiancé- an up and coming young accountant-which rendered her largely immune to the charms of dashing, volatile, _disorganized_ Professor Jones.

But even Irene had found these last few days rather trying. To begin with, Professor Jones had vanished- simply _vanished into_ _thin air. _This in itself was inconvenient but not unforeseen. On her first day in the Archeology Department, in fact, Irene had been called into the Dean's office and prepared for this very eventuality. She'd been given to understand that the Government sometimes required Dr. Jones' services, _the nature of which,_ the Dean hinted, _they were not at liberty to disclose_, on very short notice. He'd handed her a manila envelope of instructions, to keep in her desk under lock and key. _If I am called away_ was written on the flap in Dr. Jones' untidy scrawl. Irene had come across a similar document in the course of straightening Dr. Marcus Brody's files. Except that Dr. Brody's envelope was labeled _For Marcus_, _in the event of my death. _

The plans for Dr. Jones' absence had quickly been put into motion. Irene cancelled his appointments. A graduate teaching assistant proctored his exams, and Dr. Brody stepped in to submit his students' grades. A few people made polite inquiries, and Irene gave them polite noncommittal replies.

Matters were proceeding calmly until Dr. Jones' colleagues received notice that his wedding would not take place. Then telephones rang, rumors flew, and pointed questions were asked. Irene chose not to dignify the rumors with her notice, but she was thoroughly tired of being plagued with questions that she had no way to answer. Of course it was _such a shame_ about Miss Ravenwood-she and Dr. Jones had seemed so in love- but no one had been able to reach her, either. All in all, Irene reflected, it was really just as well that the term was ending and Christmas vacation was almost here. She fervently hoped that this whole sorry affair would blow over by the New Year and let her corner of Barnett return to business as usual.

This bright December morning, the Archaeology Department's reception area was crowded with students picking up final papers and faculty talking about the departmental Christmas party. And of course, gossip was still buzzing about Dr Jones. When two handsome men, one in business attire and one in a pilot's uniform, arrived at Irene's desk, she turned to them with something approaching relief.

"Good morning, Miss Appleton", said the pilot in a cultured British accent. "I scarcely dare hope you remember me-Colin Williams?"

Irene's cheeks actually flushed. "Of course I remember you, Pilot Officer Williams."

"And may I present my associate, Mr. Nigel Stewart?"

"Charmed" said Nigel. Irene extended a hand and shook Nigel's warmly.

Colin braced his hands on the desk and leaned forward with his most winning smile. "And I see," he said, "that congratulations are in order. Why, the last time we met, you were on the switchboard and now you're department secretary."

"Laying it on a bit thick, old man", Nigel muttered. Colin ignored him.

"Thank you" Irene said, smiling back. "Everyone here keeps me busy, especially your friend Dr. Jones, but I like it."

Colin had been handed his opening. "Well, speaking of Professor Jones, is he available?"

"We actually have a package for the Archaeology Department; Miss," Nigel added. "Our instructions are that either Dr. Brody or Dr. Jones can sign for it."

"Dr. Jones isn't presently in his office, I'm afraid," said Irene. She threw a harried glance at his door, which both men pretended not to notice.

"Oh? Well, sorry to have missed him." Colin kept his tone offhanded. "Do you by chance expect him back later today?"

Irene looked flustered "l I haven't- I don't-I mean I really can't say…"

This was the cue they'd been waiting for. The two men made a point of exchanging significant looks. Nigel shook his head mournfully. "Should have expected this,-_poor blighter_."

Colin nodded sadly "More than understandable under the circumstances, though, isn't it?"

Irene pounced, desperate for news. "What circumstances would those be?"

Nigel coughed delicately. "Oh, the business with his wedding, don't you know. Surely you've heard…"

Cracks were beginning to show in Irene's reserve ."Well, that's just it, Mr. Stewart, no-one's heard! Now I did get a card in the mail, very proper, saying" she lowered her voice –"that Dr. Jones and Miss Ravenwood had called off their wedding. Most of the faculty did as well. I tried to telephone Miss Ravenwood several times, but her phone just rang and rang with no answer. And now no one has seen or heard from Dr. Jones."

Colin looked sympathetic. "It's good of you to care, Miss Appleton. I'm sure anyone would find those circumstances most worrisome."

"He's had to leave suddenly before, of course, but this…" She looked up hopefully. "You're a friend of his, Mr. Williams-have you heard from Dr. Jones? Have you heard anything at all?"

Nigel straightened his tie and seemed to come to a decision. "Well, Miss Appleton, you seem so sincerely concerned, perhaps it would be all right if we relieved your mind a bit?"

"Insofar as gentlemen can," Colin reminded him sternly.

"Of course" said Irene, "I'm not motivated by vulgar curiosity."

Colin lowered his voice and said "As it happens, Miss Appleton,…."

"Oh please call me Irene."

"Nigel's wife is a friend of Miss Ravenwood's."

Nigel- who hadn't been aware that he was married- startled at this, but threw himself gamely into the fray.

"And as a woman yourself, Miss Appleton, I'm sure you understand why Miss Ravenwood was able to take my dear, er, Helen into her confidence. Though it's a rather delicate matter, I fear …"

"Oh, I'm sure it is" Irene countered. "But as a confidential secretary, Mr. Stewart, I'm accustomed to keeping delicate matters- ah, hush-hush, shall we say? And if I had something to go on, it would help me keep the vultures at bay-for Dr. Jones' sake, you understand."

"Oh, of course-for Dr. Jones sake." Colin added piously. He turned to Nigel with a conspiratorial grin.

A few young coeds hovered nearby, obviously hoping Irene wouldn't notice they were listening. Nigel pretended to ignore them and began.

"Well then, Miss Irene, if you've met Marion Ravenwood you're doubtless aware that she spent several years abroad?"

Irene nodded.

"Now, it appears that during this time she met a man, a wealthy and titled man, who fell in love with her. But he wasn't free to marry because he had a wife who was very ill with..." Nigel paused and licked his lips.

"Consumption, I think," Colin put in solemnly, "Consumption."

"Quite right, my dear fellow, Consumption." Colin listened, fascinated, as Nige spun a tale of star-crossed lovers, noble renunciation, deathbed confessions, and a desperate search against all odds. It was straight out of every Mills and Boon novel he had ever teased his sisters for reading, with a dash of Rider Haggard and _Boy's Own_ thrown in.

"And so he found her at last", Nigel finished, "right here in New York-just a week before her wedding to Dr. Jones!"

The cluster of spellbound co-eds drew a collective breath.

"Noo!" exclaimed a pretty blonde.

"That's so romantic!" gushed another girl.

"Would he have stood up in the church at her wedding and said he objected?" a third asked.

Even Irene had begun to believe and her eyes were huge. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Stewart," she said, "that's like something from the movies. Whatever happened?"

Colin decided to pitch in and help. He sighed dramatically and said "I think the three of them will carry that secret to their graves. But I'll wager Dr. Jones realized he couldn't stand in the way of true love. He obviously released Miss Ravenwood from their engagement and stepped aside. Quite gentlemanly of him, really."

Nigel's lips twitched, and Colin shot him a quelling look.

"But one can't expect a chap to stand by and watch another man romance his bride-to-be," Colin added, "so if Dr. Jones had a chance to leave the country, it's no wonder he took it."

"Poor, _poor_ Dr. Jones- who could blame him?" said the blonde coed. "If only he'd had someone to take his part and comfort him!"

Colin choked, and pretended to clear his throat.

Nigel looked at his audience sternly. "But when Dr. Jones gets back you mustn't ever let on that you know…"

"Think of the poor man's pride…." Colin added.

"I should say", Irene finished firmly. She gathered the coeds in by eye. "We must never allude to this. Ever."

There was a chorus of "No" and "of course not" from the girls. They nodded earnestly and started leaving, singly or in whispering pairs.

"So, Miss Irene,"-Colin held out Marion's parcel,- "Since you_ are _a confidential secretary, could you possibly see your way clear to signing for this box? Mr. Stewart and I are leaving on the mail run for England tomorrow and we'd hate to leave these valuable artifacts unaccounted for…"

Irene knew where her duty lay. "Of course, gentlemen, I'd be happy to oblige. I'll put the parcel in the safe and let Dr. Brody know it's here."

Nigel flashed a winning smile of his own. "I hope they appreciate you, Miss Appleton. It's a relief to leave this matter in your capable hands."

Irene dropped her eyes modestly. "Oh, one does one's poor best," she murmured in a gratified tone.

Colin produced a receipt book from his breast pocket, and Irene solemnly signed for the parcel. Marion Ravenwood's ties to her past were borne off to the Archaeology Department's safe without further ado.

With their mission accomplished, Colin and Nigel made their farewells, then headed outside to hail a cab. The two young aviators were gravely formal until the car doors closed. Then they slapped each other on the back, roaring with laughter.

"This, mate, deserves a drink," said Colin as he wiped his eyes. "Must say you mised your calling Nige- you ought to be writing weepers for the women's magazines."

Nigel grinned back. "So? it worked-did you see that daft little bint pining for _poor jilted Indiana_? Ha!" He pointed an admonishing finger at his co-conspirator. "And you've got no room to talk- the way _you _were chatting up that secretary, my lad, it's a wonder you didn't cut Jones out long before this."

Colin ran a hand through his hair, shamefaced. "Not for lack of trying, I fear. Tuppence-Marion, I mean- wasn't having any, though."

"Speaks well of her," Nigel answered thoughtfully. "Perhaps our Indiana will wake up one day and realise what he let slip through his fingers."

"He may-but that's not my problem or yours."

'And it's rather poetic justice that none of those people will think your Marion was left at the altar..."

"She's not my Marion-yet."

Nigel waved this inconsequential objection away. "Matter of time. So, is she flying out with us tomorrow?"

"She hasn't given me her answer, but plan on it unless you hear otherwise from me. I'll talk to her at dinner tonight."

Nigel's eyebrows went up. "Dinner, is it? Already?"

"Tomorrow would have been her wedding day-she shouldn't be alone."

"Right then." There was a promising grill on the next corner and Nigel tapped on the cab window.

"So how about lunch and a pint before you go back to her?"


End file.
